CHAPTER 4

~Josh's POV~

At some point during the flight I must have dozed off as well. I woke up as the flight attendant was making his way through the cabin collecting the final bits of trash prior to landing. I discovered my pillow of choice happened to be a head of golden hair. I slowly pulled my head up from resting against Donna's and took a moment to observe her sleeping form resting against my side. She looked almost angelic. Though my arm was completely asleep and starting to ache, I hated to disturb her rest. She seemed to get less and less of it lately and yes, I realize much of that is my fault... just not for the reason I'd rather it be if you know what I mean.

I take my still functioning hand and gently shake her. "Donna... Donna we're getting ready to land."

She turns her head toward me and burrows her head deeper in to my shoulder like a child not wanting to wake up for school. I smile and know it is time to pull out the banter.

Using a gentle, sing-songy voice I try again. "Donnatella, come on it's time to wake up. Plus, I'm going to need a minute to clean up the drool you left on my shirt."

"Joshua, we both know that between us, I am not the one with the tendency to leave a pool the size of Lake Erie in my wake... pun intended."

I simply laugh. She's got me there. With two campaigns together under our belt, we've had more than enough instances of watching each other try and catch a few minutes of sleep in the worst of conditions. She slowly lifts her head from my shoulder and stretches as much as she can in the limited space between myself and the Chris Farley look alike sitting in the aisle seat of our row. I am busy shaking my arm trying to quell the incessant tingling as it too awakens. Donna notices my fidgeting and giggles.

"I'd say I'm sorry, Josh, but I honestly slept way to well to regret the few minutes of torture you are going through right now. You should sell a mold of your shoulder and arm to Serta. They could make Lyman travel pillows."

"Could be an interesting career change. Maybe I could even branch out and sell molds of other parts of my body for other more interesting uses", I whisper with an evil grin and wink.

"JOSHUA!" Ha! Got her! She slaps my still awaking arm, which induces another jolt of painful tingling, but it was soooo worth it to see that shocked look on her face. I am "da man" yet again!

At that moment the captain announces that we are making our final descent. Donna stretches across my lap to get a look out the window at the approaching ground. This is the part of having a window seat I don't mind missing. If I were alone, I'd be closing the window cover right about now actually. Something about watching the ground coming closer and closer while you're trapped inside a tin can of jet fuel makes my stomach flop. So I gladly sit back and allow Donna to lean over to observe our landing while I grip the armrest tightly.

"This is Captain Kurt Johnson. On behalf of the airline I'd like to welcome you to Los Angeles. The local time is 10:13am and the weather is a sunny 78 degrees..." The captain goes on to tell us what baggage claim area to look for as I sigh in relief that our tin can seems to have reached the ground safely. Donna sits back in her seat with a big smile on her face, watching me as I relax and peel my hand from the armrest. Five minutes later we are at our gate and begin to deplane. I grab both of our carry-ons from the overhead compartment and follow Donna into the terminal. We make our way to the baggage claim in comfortable silence. Miraculously, our baggage carousel is already moving and we only have to wait a few minutes to spot our luggage. I leave Donna with the carry-ons and go grab our other stuff. This has to be the smoothest the whole "landing and collecting baggage" thing has ever gone when not on Air Force One. Shit. I should probably go outside turn around three times and spit.

Donna and I grab a cart and get our bags out to the passenger pick up area. A driver holding a sign saying "Moss-Lyman" was standing near a black SUV.

"I'm guessing that would be us," she says as we make our way over to the vehicle. I can't help focusing on that sign. "Moss-Lyman". I wonder if she would want to hyphenate her name or if she would just take mine? I don't mind either way of course. I'm a Democrat. I'm all for women's lib. As long as she plans on using my name in some capacity. Wait... what?! Where the hell did my mind just go?

"Josh. Joshua... JOSH!?" I finally realize Donna is yelling my name. I must have stopped walking during that little stroke I just had because she's about 20 feet ahead of me. I shake my head and hurry to catch up. "Sorry... I thought I saw Jennifer Aniston," I cover quickly. She loves Jennifer Aniston. She starts frantically looking through the crowd and every which way but at me, allowing me a second to collect myself and tuck away any remnants of the thoughts of her marital surname preferences that were just invading my mind.

"Must not have been her. Oh well, let's go." I don't think she noticed my reaction to the sign. Sleight of hand works every time. I am the master. The driver loads our bags for us and we hit the road. I anxiously take out my cell and power it back up. Anyone who knows me knows not having access to the outside world for 5 plus hours is near torture. Luckily I had Donna sleeping on my shoulder to distract me and prevent the withdrawal symptoms during our flight. While I'm checking emails and voicemails, Donna is glued to the window.

"There's something so soothing about palm trees. Did you know that palm trees only grow in tropic and subtropic climates? Just the word 'tropic' even relaxes you. Tropic makes you think of vacation and vacation means relaxation. I mean, I know this is a business trip, but the fact that there are palm trees at least helps to make it 'feel' almost vacation-like..."

"Donna, when you're done with your little monologue about the splendor of palm trees, do you think we could go over my schedule for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Joshua, you should be trying to relax a bit too you know. Yes, we have work to do and DCCC asses to kiss and placate, but that doesn't mean you can't take a few minutes to breath in the ocean air and unwind a bit."

"Donnatella, nothing about ass kissing makes me feel like relaxing, so let's revisit this later when I don't have to psyche myself up for brown nosing shall we?"

Donna gives me a little frown and digs her notepad out of her oversized bag she tells herself is a purse.

"Fine, Mr. Lyman. You have the luncheon at 1pm. I booked us at the hotel next door to the restaurant so you can just walk there. It's at a bistro, so you can dress business casual. There, you'll meet the chairman and a few other DCCC representatives from Southern California. You should be done there around 3pm and there's actually nothing else on the agenda for today."

"Donna, drop the 'Mr. Lyman' crap please. I'm sorry I made fun of your love of all things palm tree but I really just want to get this crap with the chairman over with. He's a pretentious jerk that is only in the Democratic Party because he thinks it's the 'cool' thing to do. Which, of course, it is, but that's beside the point. How about you unpack and get comfortable while I'm with the chairman and we meet up after lunch? You can help me relax?"

Oh shit. That last part probably came out wrong. I cringe inwardly and wait for Donna to take the easy jab, but by some miracle, she lets me get away with the unfortunately worded invitation.

"Apology accepted." Now she's doing the smirking. "This is us actually", she says, pointing out my window. "Let's check in and you have about 2 hours before you need to be at the restaurant."

We pull up to a large, off-white hotel just off Santa Monica Beach. I can see the Santa Monica Pier just down the beach a little ways. I have to admit, it's a beautiful spot.

I climb out of the SUV and walk around to meet Donna. The driver is holding her hand as she climbs down out of the vehicle and I eye him suspiciously. I think he catches my glare because he quickly releases Donna, puts his head down, and makes his way to getting our bags out of the trunk. Donna is staring at the ocean and beaming. She's wearing a pair of white Capri pants and simple brown leather flip flops along with her pink v-neck t-shirt. Her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail and like me, she has a pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarers on. For a second I think back to that Don Henley song. She may have alabaster skin shining in the sun rather than brown, but I definitely understand what he was talking about.

She holds her hand to her forehead to block the sun as she turns to me. "Shall we?" she asks as she tilts her head toward the lobby.

"After you madam," I say as I bow toward the door. The bellman has already loaded our bags on a cart and follows us inside. Funny enough, the large, open lobby has palm trees inside. Donna makes a point of eyeing me with a self-satisfied smirk as we pass one. I just raise my eyebrows and nod in defeat. We walk up to the front desk to a thin bald man who appears to be in his mid-40s, but around here, it's sometimes hard to really tell. He spots us and puts on a fake smile. "Welcome to the Loews Santa Monica. How may I help you?"

Donna falls for the man's smile and returns it. I read his nametag. "Chad". If it weren't immediately fairly obvious Chad was batting for the other team, I'd probably start to get possessive. But I keep my cool and just rock back and forth on my feet, letting Donna take the lead here.

"Yes, hi, we have reservations under Moss and Lyman."

"Let me take a look... Yes, here you are. I have a reservation under Moss-Lyman. One room with an ocean view and king sized bed. Would you like to use the card on file?"

Wait... one room? What the...

"No, no", Donna corrects, "no that's supposed to be TWO ocean view rooms with king beds. Not one". As usual, we are on the same wavelength here.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but the reservation is for only one room under 'Moss-Lyman'."

There's that combining of our names again. If I didn't know better, I might think some higher power was trying to tell me something.

"No, you see it was supposed to be one reservation for Moss and one for Lyman. Two total," she clarifies.

"I'm so sorry ma'am. The person taking your reservation must have misunderstood. There's a conference going on this week and we're unfortunately fairly booked up. Let me see what we have available."

The man concentrates on the computer screen in front of him as I hold on to my temper the best I can and Donna worries her bottom lip. Finally, after much hurried typing, the man looks up again.

"The only thing we have available besides the one king room is our Palm Suite. It does boast an ocean view with two bedrooms along with a patio, living area, and large luxurious bathroom. It's actually our nicest suite."

"Sounds beautiful, but we're here on business. I doubt my boss would allow me to expense something like that." She looks at me for confirmation. I give her a sorrowful smile. As much as I'd love to make Donna's California dream come true, Leo would kill me.

"Actually ma'am, this was our mistake. As manager, I have the authority to offer you this room at the same rate as the two king rooms would have been. Would that be alright with you both?" The man looks at me with a glint in his eyes. I could be wrong, but I think I may be getting checked out. Donna looks at me with hope in her eyes. Leo might still kill me if he finds out we're sharing a suite, but there's two bedrooms. I can sell it. This trip was his idea. Plus there's the added bonus of making Donna happy.

"That'll be fine. Thank you, sir," I reply. Donna gives me a smile that reaches her eyes and I can't help but feel this is going to be awesome and ridiculously dangerous. I mean, sure, it's not technically any different than when we get adjoining rooms. In fact, I'm guessing there will actually be MORE space between our beds than in the places we usually stay. No problem... right?

~Donna's POV~

Oh. My. God. Not only are the hotel grounds, lobby, and location beautiful, but this suite is absolutely the most beautiful place I've ever seen. And I've seen some of the suites the President and First Lady get to stay in. The decorations and style are formal, but also relaxed and comfortable rather than stuffy. There's a large living area with vaulted ceilings, couch and chairs, dining area, grand piano (if only one of us played), and floor to ceiling sliding glass doors that go out on to the large patio and sweeping views of the beach, ocean, and Santa Monica Pier. The patio is huge! It has a lounging area as well as a table and chairs setup. I can imagine the sunset view will be glorious. The bedrooms offer large king beds that look like I'll be sleeping on an actual cloud. And then there's the bathroom. I could live just in the bathroom. It's modern and spacious and the best part... There's this large white tile shower with plenty of room for you and your closest friends. The front of the shower is clear glass doors, the opposing sidewalls have rain showerheads as well as movable wand showerheads, and the back 'wall' of the shower is actually a large infinity bathtub with room for two that is surrounded by candles and lit by a skylight. I have a feeling this bathroom will be one of the stars of my fantasies in the near future.

I take my time exploring every nook and cranny of the suite as the Josh tips the bellhop on his way out the door. I look over from the door to the bathroom and notice Josh looking around appraisingly as well. "Not bad," he says. Yeah, duh!

"You have to see this bathroom!" I encourage.

He walks over to me and peaks through the door, looking side to side. "Hmm, bathtub in the shower. Good use of space I suppose." Leave it to Joshua Lyman to simplify the amazing, luxurious, and dare I say romantic bathroom in to a smart use of space. Ugh, men.

I try to contain my excitement that we get to spend the next 4 and a half days here and switch back to assistant mode. "Well Josh, if you want to use the bathroom first, go ahead. You should get ready for your luncheon."

"What are you going to do while I'm gone? I better not come back here and find you still in the bathroom." I let his earlier comment about helping him "relax" after his lunch go, but a girl can only pretend to ignore so much. Sometimes I like to let him think he's the master. But now it's time for payback.

"What's wrong Josh? Afraid you wouldn't know what to do if you found me relaxing in the tub later?" Josh's jaw drops. Haha, Lyman. Two can play that game. And mine wasn't even on accident. Who's the master now?

"Wha... I mean... well... ugh..."

I saunter over to Josh, place my mouth inches from his ear and whisper in my best sexy voice, "Don't worry Josh, after I call Margaret to check in at the office, I'll just be sunbathing on the patio… in my bikini." I walk past him back in to the living room and leave him to pick his jaw up off the floor.

A full minute later, he follows me out to the living room where I'm at the dining room table, sorting through the files he'll need to review before he leaves for lunch. He still seems a bit in shock. He stops at the end of the table and says, "Okay, well, make sure you put on sunblock. Don't want to, uhh, you know, burn all that alabaster skin on the first day." He then walks toward his bedroom. Well that was interesting. I need to stop smirking.

Josh walks back by me with a change of clothes in hand, making eye contact the whole way as he closes the bathroom door behind him. Great, now Josh is going to be staring in those bathroom fantasies. Again, I'm screwed.

I finish sorting our files before heading to my bedroom to unpack a bit and call Margaret. She fills me in on a bit of the office gossip. Apparently Danny has been calling C.J.'s office. I really like Danny, but that relationship is probably more risky than anything between Josh and I could ever be. Margaret also relays her sensation that Will is not to be trusted. She has no real proof. Just a 'feeling' she has. I don't know. He seems okay but it's too soon to make a proper judgment there. Eventually we get to the business of the country. Apparently, things are going just fine back in D.C. and the only tasks I need to worry about are those that are related to this trip.

I decide that instead of sunbathing, I should probably go do a bit of shopping. I forgot to bring sunblock and do not actually want to burn. That would definitely put a damper on any fun in the sun we get. Plus, I could find Josh a pair of swim trunks so we don't have to worry about that later. First, though, I need to clean the plane scum off me. I hear the bathroom door open and figure Josh must be done in there. My turn to break in the bathroom baby! I grab a change of clothes and head out to the living room.

Josh is sitting at the table skimming the files I left out for him. He's all fresh shaven and cleaned up, wearing a pair of light grey pants and black polo shirt with dark grey boat shoes. The polo hugs his impressive chest and sleeves show off his amazing biceps. God I love this man. Wait! No! I mean, love to look at this man. I mean, he is beautiful. Any red-blooded woman would definitely agree. He looks up at me and must notice something is off. He seems worried and says, "Donna, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing. Sorry, just thinking about... umm... UV rays. I need to go get some sunscreen so I don't get harmed by the sunrays."

"Ah-kay," he replies in his very Josh-like way.

"I'm just going to go shower. If I'm not out by the time you have to leave, the address for the restaurant is right there for you, but you literally just have to walk down the street a few buildings to the left. Can't miss it. Give me a call if you need anything. Otherwise, call me when you're done and we'll figure everything else out from there, okay?"

"Yeah, sounds good. Thanks for getting this all organized for me," he says, gesturing to the files in front of him.

"Just doing my job, boss. Do good today," I say with a smile. He smiles back and nods his head once. I turn and head toward the bathroom. Time to start some relaxing!